


Harry Goes to Gringotts

by Myricle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-04 22:05:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12177417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myricle/pseuds/Myricle
Summary: A short parody of the scene you've read a million times.





	Harry Goes to Gringotts

"I'm here to claim my rightful title as Lord of House Potter," Harry said smartly, leaning on the goblin's desk. The rest of the bank continued to work quietly around him, unaware of the momentous occasion occurring right under their nose.

"You what?" said the goblin, a flat-faced thing with a permanently bland expression.

"I'm here to claim my title and accompanying family ring and vault," Harry said slowly, as the goblin was clearly a bit slow-witted.

"Who are you?"

"Ah," Harry said with a smile, "You require identification, yes? What will it be? A drop of blood? A signature written with a bloodquill? Perhaps an examination of my magical signature?"

"Your wand, please."

Harry handed over his wand, a little disappointed but still in good spirits. "I just picked it up. A curious blend of Elder wood, a piece of the True Cross, the stake used to kill Dracula, and some bark from the Tree of Life. The core, of course, contains Thestral hair, Basilisk venom, a glass pearl crafted from a young girl's dream, and the soul of Merlin."

"Name?" asked the goblin, still studying the wand.

"...Harry Potter." Harry darted a quick look around to see if there were any other tellers open, since this one didn't quite seem to grasp the gravity of the situation. There were none.

"Ah, Mr Potter," the goblin said at last, handing the wand back. "What can I do for you today?"

Harry clenched his jaw. "I. Am here. To claim my heritage."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, don't play dumb! Look in your records! I'm here to assume the title and position of Lord of House Potter. You must have records of the family vault! Our lands, our holdings overseas, all those things!"

The goblin looked carefully through Harry's file, his expression as mild as ever. "There's nothing here like that, Mr Potter."

"Are you sure? No special family ring? Maybe one that turns invisible when you twist it?" Harry asked desperately.

"There were no rings left for you in your inheritance, Mr Potter. The Potters only had one vault, and if they had holdings elsewhere they didn't register them with us."

"Fine! Forget the Potter lordship. What about Black? Do I have anything coming from the Black family?"

"Not according to your file, Mr Potter."

"What about Peverell? Any ancient vaults full of secret magic books?"

"No, Mr Potter."

"Gryffindor?"

"No, Mr Potter."

"Slytherin?"

"No, Mr Potter."

"...Hufflepuff?"

"I'm afraid not, Mr Potter."

Harry ran his hands through his hair. This was not how it was supposed to go.

"What about marriage contracts?" he asked, somewhat shrilly. "Am I arranged to marry someone?"

"That doesn't happen anymore, Mr Potter," the goblin said, dull eyes reflecting Harry's strained expression.

"Are you sure? No contract involving someone with the name - I don't know - Daphne, perhaps?"

"No, Mr Potter."

Harry was starting to get angry.

"Mansions?" he snapped.

"Nope," replied the goblin.

"Wands?"

"Nope."

"Staves?"

"Aren't used."

"Magic rings?"

"No.”

"A special trunk with, like, a whole bedroom inside it?"

"No."

"Robes that deflect spells?"

"Don't exist."

"A Time-Turner that lets me go back years?"

The goblin shifted a little. "None registered as your property, Mr Potter."

Harry slammed his hands on the desk, tears of frustration springing unbidden to his eyes. "Well what the hell _do_ you have for me?"

"A pile of gold."

A few moments passed as Harry leaned on the counter, trembling with emotion.

"C-Can I have some?"

"Of course, Mr Potter."

They descended to the Potter vault, which contained nothing more than a few piles of galleons.

Harry wept quietly as he stuffed fistful after fistful into a moneybag the goblin had given him. He noticed the bag getting quite heavy, and looked over his shoulder at where the goblin stood, waiting expressionlessly.

"I-Is this bag bottomless? Or expanded magically?"

"Nope. It's just a bag."

Harry's broken, wracking sobs echoed around the vault and down through the winding tunnels.


End file.
